Exquisite Mister!
by FragilePuzzle
Summary: AU. There has been a string of murders concerning girls that enter beauty pageants, so a famed detective agency decides to send their best agents undercover to the Miss USA pageant to solve the case--Mello, Near, Light, and L. DISCONTINUED.
1. Beauty Killer

**A/N: **Oh mai god. I love this story already. XD Anyways, it was inspired by my used-to-be-favorite movie, "Miss Congeniality." However, the plot isn't going to be exactly the same… -smirk- Anyways, if you like Mello/Near and L/Light, I think you'll like the pairings in this story, because those two are the main ones. This fic DOES have crossdressing and genderbending, however, so no lieky no read. KAY?

* * *

iF yOu DO noT Do SOmEthiNg AbOut AlL oF tHeSE nOsY pOLiceMeN, i WiLl HaVE nO cHoICe bUT tO TakE aCtIoN.

Aizawa exasperatedly threw the letter down on to the table, sighing as he rested his head in his hands. The goddamn 'Beauty Killer' had struck again…he killed the former Miss Universe, this time, generating a buzz of police activity—to be expected, of course. However, now he was sending threatening letters to Wammy's Detective Agency—or just WDA, for short. The Miss USA pageant was coming up, and there had been more and more rumors swirling about what was going to happen to the winner of _this_ year's competition—so many girls, potential contestants at that—they were all backing out because this was the year the Beauty Killer was at their strongest. The police had never been more stumped, so of course, they would call on the WDA. They were the best detective agency in the world, after all, so it was simply natural…but still, Aizawa was looking forward to spending the weekend with his family. Looked like that was out of the question now.

"It's time for action," Aizawa said to nobody in particular, standing up and slamming his hands down on to the table. "Beauty Killer, we're going to get you!"

~*~*~*~

"You really think you can hit me with those shoddy moves, shrimp?" teased a feminine-looking blonde man, smirking at his sparring partner, a short white-haired boy who was currently swinging a roundhouse kick towards him.

"Mello should not-judge-his-opponents-by-their-size," chastised the smaller boy, dodging the blonde's punches one-by-one.

"Light, I do not suggest straining yourself," said another man on the mat, a lanky, black-haired man with black bags underneath his eyes. "And your hair is becoming disheveled, I propose we take a break and have some sweets, what do you say?"

The brunette man he was fighting said nothing, just swinging another punch at his face, missing as the taller man sidestepped it. The two pairs continued to spar on the mat until all four of them were sweating and panting, punches and kicks weak and shaky, but mouths still running full power. A large crowd had gathered around them now, and people were quietly betting cash on who would win out of each pair—this was a normal lunch break at Wammy's Detective Agency, of course. Each field agent had to be strong _and_ smart, so of course, Mello, Near, Light, and L were the top choices. All four men were strong both mentally and physically, so they were the ones who got the best jobs. Just as they liked it.

Suddenly, the small white-haired boy swung a kick that connected directly into the blonde's gut, causing him to stagger and fall back on to the mat. He lay there, sprawled out, panting for breath as his angry blue eyes traveled over to the small boy.

"It appears as though I have won again, Mello," he said monotonously, twirling a lock of damp-with-sweat hair around his finger. "Just as I expected, Mello let his guard down, because he assumed that I was just as tired as he was. Mello, if we are out on the field, and you stop shooting because you assume that your enemy is out of bullets, what do you think is going to happen when you discover he has another gun?"

"Shut UP, Near!" the blonde man panted, smirking as he took one last kick and knocked Near's legs out from underneath him, causing the smaller of the two to fall to the mat with a dull thud. "Don't act like you're better than me!"

"That was a d-dirty trick," Near insisted, standing up and brushing himself off, stepping over to Mello a moment later and offering his hand to help Mello up. The blonde smacked it away, shakily pushing himself up and flipping his long hair over his shoulder. After a moment of thinking, Near pulled a hairtie off of his wrist and offered it to Mello, the blonde just staring at it disdainfully before snatching it up. He gathered his hair into a high ponytail, watching as Light and L continued to fight—it was always hard to tell who would win with them, you could never make too many bets until the very end.

"Why'd you have a hairtie on you anyways, brat?" Mello asked Near, shaking out his arms now that his hair was away from his face.

"Mello is my partner, is he not? He has…longer hair than most men, and it would be beneficial if it were not in his face during a fight, am I correct?"

Mello just shrugged and turned back to the fight—L had Light's arm behind his back, and was leaning over him, the brunette apparently immobilized. However, Light hooked one of his legs behind L's knee, kicking as hard as he could and causing L to fumble and release his hold on him.

"Good move," Mello noted, crossing his arms and shifting the weight of the leg he was standing on. "They're both too good…who do you think 's gonna win?"

"I believe—"

"L, Light, Mello, Near!" yelled Aizawa, storming into the room. "We have a case for you!"

"All four of us?" questioned Light, now having suddenly stopped his fight with L. "Do you really need two teams for this…?"

"You ever heard of the Beauty Killer?"

~*~*~*~

A little while later, all four of them were settled in Aizawa's office, still as sweaty as ever. The afro-d man scrunched up his nose, but didn't say anything, preferring to pull out the case files on the killer instead. He slammed the heavy folder on to his desk, looking at each of them in turn, nodding seriously.

"The Beauty Killer targets girls who have been or are in beauty pageants," he began, flipping open the folder and pulling out some pictures. "As you know, the Miss USA pageant is coming up—"

"Why would we know that?" interrupted Mello, snapping a piece of gum he was chewing. "I mean, it's not like we were really _planning_ on watching it, y'know?"

"Mello should not interrupt," Near said quietly, twirling a piece of hair as he pulled his knee to his chest, gray eyes focusing on his boisterous partner. "Please continue, Aizawa."

"We are in need of undercover agents to go to the pageant, and to keep watch over the many female contestants," he started, opening a desk and pulling out the letter he had received earlier. "We were going to send _female_ agents…but…we have none. Well, aside from Linda, but she is on maternity leave."

"That's pretty pathetic…" mumbled Mello, snapping his gum again.

"So what do we have to do?" asked Light, crossing and uncrossing his legs in that feminine way of his. "Are we going to disguise ourselves as workers there, maybe managers of contestants? I think those two would be the best choices, as they're the most discreet and _probably_ the least obvious…"

"That was the original plan," Aizawa sighed, looking at each of them in turn. "But we need to infiltrate deeper than that—we need pageant entrants."

There was dead silence for a moment, Mello still continuing to chew his gum as if his brain couldn't process what Aizawa had just said. Finally, it was L who spoke up, the lanky man standing up and walking over to their boss's desk, eyes wide.

"You would like…us to disguise ourselves…as members of the female species?" he asked, chewing on his thumbnail and itching the back of his leg with his foot.

"Yes…" Aizawa sighed, folding his hands and setting them down on the desk. "We're going to need you to do just that—you'll all have to disguise yourselves as women and enter the pageant, all the while keeping an eye on all of the other entrants, and you'll also be responsible for discovering who this 'Beauty Killer' is. Is that understood?"

"Wait, wait, wait," demanded Light, standing up as well. "How is that even going to work? None of us even look remotely feminine…well, except Mello, but he acts like a heathen."

"What the fuck?" spat the blonde, standing up and glaring at Light. "I don't fucking look like a chick! There is _NOTHING_ wrong with a guy having nice hair, WHY does everybody feel the need to say that I look like a girl, I DON'T look like a girl—"

"Mello ANGRY!" teased Light, crossing his arms and looking over at the enraged blonde. "Mello SMASH!"

It was Near that saved Light from getting a painful fist sandwich in that pretty face of his, the smaller boy grabbing on to a beltloop on the back of the blonde's leather pants, yanking on it and causing Mello to stumble backwards a few paces. Gray met blue for the who-knows-how-many-eth time, and Mello was faced with the normal scolding look that Near always gave him when he was misbehaving.

"Please calm down, Mello, and allow Aizawa to finish explaining the case," Near said, gesturing to the seat that Mello had been sitting in moments earlier.

"Continue, Aizawa," L said, going to sit back down next to Light.

"Well, we have everything set for you…we've entered you all in the pageant, and thanks to cooperation from the owner of the pageant, you are all in. Mello, you are the entrant from New York, Light, you are from California, L, you are from Connecticut, and Near, you are from Alaska."

Mello burst out laughing, looking over at the always-monotone Near, who seemed slightly…miffed, maybe?

"I've arranged a meeting for the four of you with a manners coach—he specializes in teaching pageant contestants everything they need to know to win, and since the four of you will have to manage to make it into the top ten—"

"Alaska!" laughed Mello, earning another disapproving glare from Near. "You _do_ look like a little snowman, or maybe a cute little Eskimo!"

This earned a few snickers from the other people in the room, as well as a slight dusting of the lightest pink on Near's cheeks. However, after a moment, Aizawa coughed to regain their attention. The four men turned back to him, watching as he clumsily dropped part of the case file onto the floor, fumbling to pick it up as he continued to explain the case.

"Anyhow, the three of you are scheduled to meet Monsieur Mikami, the world-renowned manners coach. Your appointment is tomorrow, and he'll teach the three of you how to be proper pageant contestants…you'll have to decide on talents and prepare for interviews…are you four sure you're up for this?"

"No—" Mello started, being cut off by Near.

"Of course we are, sir," he said, nodding and standing up. "This is why we work here, is it not?"

"I guess we can do this," sighed Light, going to stand over by Near, sending another furtive glance back towards L. "Isn't that right, L?"

The raven-haired man stood up out of his odd sitting position, going to stand over by the other two men, the three of them turning to stare back at Mello a moment later. The blonde frowned, hmph-ed, crossed his legs, snapped his gum, took his hair out of his ponytail and shook it out, glared at them, and even tried to sneer, but nothing worked. They continued to stare at him, and finally, he stood up and walked over to the desk, defeated. Apparently, the four of them were going to enter the Miss USA pageant—it was official.

"The four of you will be expected to make it into the top ten, because only then will we be able to have completely backstage access," Aizawa nodded, handing L the case file for them to look over. "Now, don't be late to work tomorrow—I've heard that Mikami _really_ hates being left waiting. Anyways, you guys are going to meet Mikami at Crystal Lake for…brunch, whatever that is. Is your mission understood?"

"Understood," Near said firmly, nodding his head and looking over at Mello expectantly.

"I get it," the blonde sighed, running his fingers through his hair and shooting a dirty look at Near.

"Affirmative," said L, standing up from his usual slouch to salute Aizawa.

"We'll do it, and do it right," Light assured their worried-looking boss, the brunette leading the other three men out of the room a moment later.

~*~*~*~

"What the hell is a brunch?" asked Mello, the four of them now seated out in the commons, details to the case spread out methodically over a coffee table.

"No clue," shrugged Light.

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**End Note: **MAKEOVEH TIEM, YUS? Hehe, if you love me, you'll review and help me pick out some pretteh outfits for all of our favorite pageant contestants, what do you say? I do have some ideas, but if you want to help, you never know! Near in Lolita…Mello in a cocktail dress…yes plz.

~FragilePuzzle


	2. Makeovers!

**A/N: **I love writing this story…and yeah, I'm trying as hard as I can not to completely ignore L and Light in favor of Mello and Near—I do need some practice writing two pairings at a time. I hope you can already see the romantic tension! (rofl yeah right, I know I fail at that. XD)

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The next day, the four men walked into Crystal Lake, each dressed in their personal style of attire. Mello was wearing his skintight leather pants and very exposing quilted vest, Near was wearing a pair of simple, white baggy pajamas, Light was wearing a pair of creamy brown slacks with a white button-up oxford, and L was wearing a pair of baggy blue jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt. They were a ragtag group indeed. However, it was L who first spotted Mikami—he was a black-haired man with chic glasses, checking his Rolex watch every few seconds.

"Hello Monsieur Mikami," Light smiled politely, holding out his hand for the other man to shake. He only jawdropped as he looked at each of them in turn, wondering who the hell there weird people were. However, as they sat themselves down, he got the message.

"Are you…the agents from the WDA?" he asked disbelievingly, mouth still rudely hanging open.

"Yup," Mello said, flipping his legs over the arm of his chair and beginning to pick at his nails as he snapped his gum loudly once again. "'S us."

"They didn't have any…female agents?" he asked, mouth _still_ hanging open. "None at all? In the whole agency?"

"I believe that Mikami would be surprised as to how sexist our agency is. We have one female agent, but she is not suited for this job, even if she wasn't on maternity leave. Her job is only to sketch mug shots of potential criminals," L said, positioning himself in his chair in that weird crouch-sitting way of his, beginning to chew on his thumbnail as he tried to wiggle his toes in the ratty sneakers he had forced his feet into this morning.

"So they…sent…males…enter…Miss USA," he whispered, looking at them, Mello, Near, and L in particular. At least Light knew how to sit in his chair properly.

"That's correct, Monsieur Mikami," Light said, apologetic tone in his voice as he looked over at the man. "But really, I'm sure we can find a way to conform to your standards. We are quite skilled in disguise and infiltration, and we've been trained to follow orders to a tee—"

"This is going to call for some help…" he muttered, ignoring them as he flipped out his cell phone and dialed a number, holding the machine up to his ear a moment later. "Miharu, I need you to get as many stylists, beauticians, and—"

The black-haired man stopped, looking like he was about to burst out into tears as he looked at the four of them, turning back to his cell phone once again.

"Miharu, I'm scared…" he whimpered, discreetly eyeing them again. "I think this is going to call for the Yellow Box…"

"The yellow box??!!" the heard the girl on the other line exclaim. "But sir, that's only for the worst of emergencies, the most dire of straits, are you sure we should—"

"Rent it, Miharu," he whispered, closing his eyes as a moment of silence. "Rent it."

"I understand, sir."

After that, the man hung up, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked at them again. Finally, he turned to them completely, folding his hands on the table.

"Why don't you each…tell me a bit about yourselves, and we'll see where it goes from there," he groaned, smoothing his silky-looking hair into place. "It will take an hour or two for Miharu to get the Yellow Box ready, so we have…some time to kill."

"I'm Mello," the blonde started, flipping around so he was facing everybody else. "I'm twenty, my birthday's December thirteenth, and I like chocolate. I don't like it when people say I look like a girl…and…my partner's Near."

"I am Near," said the smaller of the two. "I am nineteen, my birthday is August twenty-fourth, and I enjoy playing with toys. I dislike crime. My partner is Mello."

"My name is L," nodded the raven-haired man, flickering his black eyes over towards Mikami. "I am twenty-one, my birthday is October thirty-first, and I like justice, as well as sweets. I dislike all foods that are not sweet and losing. My partner is Light."

"My name is Light," the brunette said, smiling sweetly as he turned to Mikami. "I am twenty-one, my birthday is February twenty-eighth, and I like winning, and solving cases. I don't like ignorant pricks that think they're all that, and people who can't control their temper…my partner is L."

"I see…" whispered Mikami, still seeming very intimidated by the mere sight of them. "I guess we'll have to discuss the styles we have in mind, for the beauty pageant, anyways. Would you like to go to my office…? I have many more designs there, and I believe that I have a few designers in today, to showcase their works. By the time we get done with that, it should be time to go to Yellow Box."

"That sounds good," Light said, apparently having become the new spokesman of the four of them. "We'll have to take your…car, or whatever got you here, because we were just dropped off by the agency. They were going to come pick us back up, but it seems like we have plans now, so I'll have to call and cancel."

"Sounds good," agreed Mikami, both men flipping out their cell phones, Mikami calling for his limo to come pick them up and Light calling to cancel their ride. In a few minutes, all of them were loaded into the backseat of an extravagant limo, with everything from a TV to a mini-bar.

"So, anyways, I suppose we'll have to pick out a certain style for each of you," Mikami decided, apparently more comfortable now that he was in his own realm—fashion.

"What does Mikami mean when he speaks of our own 'style?'" asked Near, pulling a knee to his chest and twirling a lock of hair. "We each have a martial arts style, if that is what he is referring to—"

"No, no silly boy," huffed the man, pulling gout a notepad. "_Fashion_ style. I think that Near, you'd have to be cute—you're too small to be the svelte or sexy type. We'll definitely have to play up your cuteness factor for what it's worth…a lot of mascara and possibly some blue contacts could make your eyes absolutely adorable."

Mello glanced over at Near, observing his eyes…he didn't think they needed makeup or contacts, they were pretty big and cute already…no, what the hell was he THINKING? Near was his _partner_, he couldn't be thinking like that, even if he didn't _hate_ him with every fiber of his being.

"Light, you'd definitely be the sophisticated type," nodded the black-haired man, pushing up his glasses as he looked at Light. "You'd be the kind of girl you have to dress to impress—and have lots of money, of course, your time would be expensive. We'll have to use a wig…you'd look good with straight hair, same color you have now, but with some curls at the very end…a mermaid-style red dress, maybe."

L practically nosebled at the thought of Light in a blood-red dress, one that clung to his frame perfectly…unlike all of his normally-straight slacks and baggy shirts, the dress would expose his every curve, and the slim and perfect arms that L only got to see in the changing rooms sometimes…mm…yes. He couldn't help it that he had the hots for his partner—how could somebody who was with him constantly NOT be able to see how gorgeous he was?

"Mello, you'd have to be the sexy type, we can definitely play up your eyes and hair…if we put some liner on you, your eyes would look so much brighter…maybe a bit of pink gloss so you don't look like you're trying to be a whore and all. You'd probably look good in a black ballgown…ooh, Cinderella-style, with a masquerade mask and everything; I heard those are coming back in style—especially in New York, which is where you're supposed to be from, right?"

Mello nodded, apparently completely ashamed of the fact that he was going to be dressed up like some kind of…_girl_.

"And finally, L…you'll be slightly more difficult, but I do think that I have a good look for you—you can be the mysterious type. We'll have to get you a long, black wig; it'll look good with curls. Since you have such a pale complexion, red would look good on your lips, but no pastels at all…especially not yellow, you'd look horrendous in that. Royal purple might be our best bet."

L shrugged, curling his bare toes over the edge of the car seat, lanky fingers going to play with a loose thread on the end of his blue jeans. However, Mikami was interrupted from going on some more about their 'personal styles' as his cell phone rang, his eyes lighting up slightly.

"You've already gotten Yellow Box ready?" he asked excitedly, eyes practically sparkling with joy. "Miharu, you're so dependable…I owe you my life—you'll see why when you find out who we're going to be giving makeovers to."

"No problem, sir!" said the peppy voice, plenty of hubbub to be heard in the background noise of the call. "Just bring them here as soon as you can, everybody's real excited to get started on them! But sir, do you have any sort of styles in mind for the soon-to-be-beauty-queens?"

"We have cute, sophisticated, sexy, and mysterious," he said, pointing to each of the men in turn. "Also, we'll need about ten choices of wigs in black, brunette, blonde and white—that's ten for each color, mind you, and make sure the styles are different."

"Affirmative, sir!"

"We'll be there in a few, see you then."

"What's Yellow Box?" Mello asked, watching as Mikami tucked his slim cell phone back into the breast pocket of his coat. "You keep talking about it, but what exactly _is_ it?"

"Yellow Box is the warehouse I rent for major makeovers—it's completely empty, and clean, so it has plenty of room for all stations we could possibly need, as well as room for a banquet table for all of the workers to eat at…the four of you won't be able to eat, however. We want to get that extra pound or two off while we can."

"Are you calling me fat?" Mello asked, crossing his arms. "Just because I enjoy the occasional chocolate bar doesn't mean that I'm FAT—"

"You're not fat," Mikami sighed, looking out the window as the limo pulled up to a large warehouse. "Your figure just isn't as slender as it needs to be. Now please, get out of the car, we're here."

The four men stepped out of the car, immediately being greeted by a bubbly-looking blonde girl, her short hair pulled back into pigtails that made her look about ten years old. She gestured to the warehouse, smiling at Mikami as she looked at the four agents.

"So who are they?" she asked, gesturing to the group of men. "And where are the girls we have to give makeovers to…?"

"These _are_ the pageant entrants," Mikami said pitifully, pushing them forward and urging them towards the warehouse. "We have a lot of work to do, I'll explain it later."

The four were ushered into the large warehouse, people running about every which way. However, as Mikami clapped his hands, they all turned and saw the four of them. Within moments, there were people bustling around them, and Near was the first to be ushered off by a team of people, his pajama shirt stripped off of him and tossed on to the floor before he was dragged behind a curtain. Mello, L, and Light were led off a moment afterward, and then, the makeovers began. Over the next few hours, the men had to endure more hell than they had through their entire five years of training, until they were questioning whether or not the toughest agents should be male or female—after all, if girls had to go through this _every morning_, how the hell could they call themselves 'tough guys' when they screamed while getting their legs waxed?

~*~*~*~

"AIZAWA!" Mello yelled into the cell phone. "I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

"Now, now," Mikami scolded, brushing a lock of Mello's hair back into place. "That is not how ladies are supposed to speak."

"Fuck you, I'm not a goddamn LADY!"

Now that the makeovers were complete, all four men were almost completely unrecognizable. Mello was wearing a long blonde wig, his eyes lined and a short black ballgown exposing his long legs. There was a silver sash around his shoulder and waist that said 'New York,' and he looked about two or three inches taller thanks to the gladiator heels that wound themselves around his legs.

"Mello should calm down," Near said, walking out from behind a nearby curtain. He had on a long white wig filled with voluptuous curls, and his doe eyes were surrounded by the thickest lashes Mello had ever seen. He was wearing a dress with frills, something that looked like it was out of a little Bo Peep book, and all he needed was a sheep and a bonnet for the look to be complete. All and all, he _did_ look pretty adorable…not that Mello thought this personally, he didn't think that Near was _that_ adorable, and he was just making a statement.

"Was there something else Mello needed?" asked Near, smoothing out his sash that read 'Alaska' on it as he observed the fact that Mello was staring at his exposed legs. "I believe that we are ready for the mission at hand, are we not?"

Light and L walked out at the same time, Light wearing a red mermaid dress, his brunette wig framing his face, the choppy layers and blunted bangs accenting his facial shape. L had on a long black wig, posture as terrible as ever as he looked over at Light, practically drooling at the sight of his perfectly-toned frame.

"Well…this has to be one of the proudest moments of my entire career," sniffled Mikami, lining the four of them up. "I can't believe…that _I_ came up with these very styles…you all look so perfect…"

"Do you _want_ to die?" Mello asked, cracking his knuckles as he walked over to Mikami, towering over him fiercely. "I might be in fucking high-heels, but I can still _kick your ass_."

"Mello needs to learn to act more refined," demanded Near, crossing his hands in front of him as he took a step towards the blonde. "Now please, Mello must not blow our cover."

"And stand up straight, L," huffed Light, smacking the black-haired man in the back with a loud snap.

"Of course!" Mikami said excitedly, clapping his hands together as he escorted the four of them outside. "Names, names, NAMES! You can't have such…strange names, they should be all-American _girl_ names, not some kind of strange, super-spy code names!"

"What might Mikami be suggesting?" L asked, biting his manicured nail, quickly taking it out of his mouth a second later, disgusted look on his face.

"You," he started, pointing to L. "You will be Elle Johnson, born and raised in Connecticut, of course."

Mello snorted, covering his mouth a second later, but stumbling as they continued to walk over to the large doors that led out of the warehouse.

"And you," said Mikami, pointing to Near this time. "You'll be Natalie Pohlman, from Alaska. Mello, you'll be Melina Scott from New York, New York, one of the leading fashion capitals in the world, you lucky girl! And finally, Light, you'll be Lauren Conners from California."

"We're all set to go, sir!" saluted Miharu, gesturing over to the large door that led out of the building. "The helicopter is here to take them to Texas, where the first meeting of the pageant contestants will be held!"

"Melina Scott, Natalie Pohlman, Lauren Conners, and Elle Johnson…good luck, and I'll see you as soon as you get to California!" smiled Mikami, taking a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dabbing at his eyes as the large doors swung open.

The four walked outside, seeing all of the other agents that were going to be working from the WDA headquarters. There was Aizawa, Mogi, Ide, Rester, Gevanni, and Soichiro, just to name a few of the best agents—all of the others, they didn't recognize. However, apparently, it was the same for them. It wasn't as though they were very recognizable either…it wasn't until Mello stormed over to Aizawa and slammed him up against the side of his car did they recognize who the newfound bombshells were.

"You fucker…" he hissed, squeezing the material of Aizawa's suit tighter in his fist. "You put me on this mission, and _look_ _what happened_."

"Woah, Mello, you look _hot_," said Rester, nodding as he observed the blonde agent.

"I would suggest that Rester does not speak of such notions around Mello—or, Melina," sighed Near, tucking a stray lock of the wig hair behind his ear. "It is not the wisest decision."

"Are you all ready to go?" Aizawa asked, gesturing over to the helicopter that was getting ready to take off. "You have to go to Texas to meet at the brunch—"

"What is it with these damn people and _brunch_?" huffed Mello, crossing his arms as he was ushered over to the plane. "I mean, seriously, what the hell? I didn't even know what brunch was, and I _still_ don't! I mean, what the fuck?"

"Ladylike manners!" Mikami yelled from inside of the building, waving them off once again. "Don't forget the beauty queen wave, and don't forget your proper posture—don't swear, either!"

With that, the four were escorted into the helicopter, and Beauty Killer beware.

* * *

**End Note: **I'm beginning to think I'm having a little _too_ much fun with this…but anyways, I've been able to write so much lately because I'm sick, and I've been staying home from school. Ah well, I like being sick, because it means that I can stay home from school and write. X3 Oh, and yes, this story will have lemon in it…yummy lemon with crossdressing. *drools*

~FragilePuzzle


	3. Brunch With Bad Intentions?

**A/N: **Now it's time for the actual story to start! I do realize that it took me TWO whole chapters to get to this point, but still…DUN BLAME MEH. *smacked* Anyways, I do realize that this is totally retarded crack. You do not need to tell me this. X3

* * *

After a ride that was much longer than any of the four of them desired, the helicopter finally touched down in Houston, Texas, arriving at the Miss USA headquarters. There were many girls bustling about outside of the building, each with their managers and beauticians flocking about them, but the four men realized that they were going to stick out just a bit—however, they figured that, by the time they got to California, they'd have Mikami and the team, so it'd be all good. For now, all they could do was unload themselves from the helicopter and try not to stumble and fall flat on their faces in their newfound heels. Light seemed the most adept of all of the agents, striding out of the copter easily, Near following, and Mello and L taking the rear. Well, if this wasn't the strangest moment of their entire career as detectives.

"Hello!" said a bubbly, black-haired girl, running up to the four of them. "My name's Matsada, and I'm from Michigan! You guys must be the unregistered competitors—your states were slow getting your papers in, so that's why you weren't in the roster, right?"

"That's right," Light said smoothly, nonchalantly tossing his hair over his shoulder. "My name's Lauren Conners, and I'm from California. This is Melina Scott, Natalie Pohlman, and Elle Johnson—New York, Alaska, and Connecticut."

"Wow, Alaska!" she breathed, gently touching Near's snow-white ringlets. "Is that why your hair is white, is because there's so much snow up there?"

"I was born with a genetic condition," Near said, voice soft and feminine as he looked up at the bubbly girl from under thick eyelashes. "And really, in the part of Alaska where I lived, it is not that much different from Michigan, climate-wise."

"Wow, that's so cool!" she exclaimed, black pigtails bouncing as she clapped her hands together. "Well, I think the brunch is starting, so we should probably go inside now, huh?"

The four of them followed Matsada inside, each adjusting the pin-cameras that had been placed on them in the helicopter. Near's was a small and elegant rose pin that rested on a clip in his bangs, Mello's hidden among a chic silver charm on the necklace he was wearing, Light's an American flag that was pinned to the thick strap of his dress, and L's in a fake earring that rested on his left earlobe.

"Can you hear?" Mello asked softly, trying to talk directly into the necklace without looking like he was…well…_talking_ to his necklace. "Hello?"

They each had an earpiece in their ear as well, in order to receive instructions from the agents back at headquarters, but none of them were hearing anything. Back at headquarters, they had figured out that something was wrong, as they could see what was going on, but the audio was not going through either way. As the four agents walked into the large brunch hall, being escorted to a large table with Miss Florida, Miss Texas, Miss Hawaii, Miss Maine, Miss Nevada, and Miss Tennessee, the men back at HQ were still trying their hardest to figure out what could possibly be wrong.

"Well, I see that all of the lovely ladies here are most definitely worthy of their titles," started an older woman up at the podium. "You all look gorgeous, girls."

There was a loud round of applause as everybody looked up at the woman, the four agents looking around for a moment before beginning to clap as well. Apparently, she was the old Miss USA or whatever; it wasn't as if any of them cared. They were just on the lookout for any suspicious persons at the moment; not really finding any…everybody here just looked like anorexic beauty queens.

"Anyways, I hope that this year will be as fun as last year, and don't forget that whoever wins the competition will not only be Miss USA, but will also receive a complete scholarship to the college of her choice—after all, this is a scholarship program!"

Mello snorted under his breath, taking a bite of the bagel that rested on the plate in front of him. Just as he began chewing, the men back at headquarters had figured out what was wrong with the earpieces, and turns out that it was only a cable plugged into the wrong place. However, plugging the cable in while said earpieces were on wasn't exactly the best idea—it caused a resounding high-pitched sound to shriek out of the earpieces into the agent's ears. Near flinched slightly, but was able to control himself for the most part, L seemed like he didn't even hear it, Light put a hand to his ear in pain, but Mello…

"Jesus CHRIST!" he yelled, smacking a hand to his ear as he choked on his bagel. Even though all of the girls in the room turned to him, jaws dropped open, nobody made a move to help him as he coughed and hacked. After he managed to slam his fist down on to the table and slurp some of his water down, long wavy hair askew around his face, he finally noticed that all of the other girls were staring at him, and he was forced to come up with a quick excuse.

"I-I forgot to say grace before I took a bite," he suggested, holding up his bagel to show everybody. A moment later, he closed his eyes and set his bagel down, folding his hands and beginning to recite a short grace before muttering 'amen' and turning back to the woman at the podium.

"Oh my god…" Light muttered, gently brushing his own blunt bangs out of his eyes and crossing his legs under the long blood-red mermaid dress, readjusting his fake breasts slightly. "This is humiliating…"

Miss Nevada turned towards Mello, her bright red hair down to a little past her shoulders, white and black dress accenting her, in Mello's own words, '_huge-ass'_ breasts.

"Are you okay?" she asked, gently brushing Mello's hair out of his face. "My name's Mataline, and that's Mataline with a 't' not a 'd,' just in case you were wondering. I'm from Las Vegas, Nevada. You're…who?"

"My name's Mell—"

"This is Melina," Near interrupted calmly, turning to Mello with a small smile gracing his pink lips. "She is from New York, in case Mataline could not tell."

Near and Mataline shot each other dirty looks, Near suddenly feeling very jealous with how…intimately she was touching Mello, even though they had just met. It was annoying to say the least, especially because she _was_ very pretty. She had a svelte hourglass frame with the greenest eyes Near had ever seen, and he suddenly felt very inadequate with his plain gray eyes (though they were hidden underneath bright blue contacts), and the fact that he was, in fact, a boy compared to her being one of the finer specimens of what L called the 'female species.'

"And who are _you_?" she asked sweetly, smiling over at Near.

"My name is Natalie Pohlman, and I am from Alaska," he said slightly defensively, watching as Mello turned back to his bagel, which was apparently much more interesting than the conversation they were currently having.

"Your hair's really…unique," she smirked, reaching over and fingering the tip of one of the show white ringlets.

"I was born with a genetic deficiency, and I have no pigment in my hair," said Near, watching as Mataline sat back in her seat. "It is not as though it was dyed…unlike most other hair with such _exquisite_ color."

"Are you suggesting my hair's not really this red?" she gasped, crossing her arms as she looked at Near.

"Perhaps…"

"Hey hey, now let's break it up, okay guys?" Matsada said, nervously biting her lip as she rested a hand on Mataline's shoulder, turning the redheaded girl back towards the podium. Well, if this wasn't just such a _fun_ brunch already.

"Well, anyhow," said the woman at the podium. "I suppose that you should now enjoy your lunch, and get to know each other a little better, what do you say? After this, we'll have you each meet with Mister Aiber, he's very excited to meet you all!"

Sighing in relief that the torture was over, and that he could now go back to staring at Light, L had the sudden urge to pull his legs to his chest, even though he knew that he couldn't in the royal purple evening gown he was wearing. However, he could already tell his intelligence had decreased by at _least_ forty percent, just thanks to the position he was sitting in. Maybe some sweets would increase it, even if just a little bit. He looked around the table to all of the pastries that were lying untouched on the girl's plates, quickly snatching up the one that rested on his own plate and taking a big bite out of it. Mm…delicious strawberry syrup flooded his mouth as he took another bite, and the sweet white frosting accented it perfectly. The biscuit was just flaky enough, and surprisingly, it was still warm. In other words, it was a sight for sore eyes, as far as L was concerned. Not eating any sweets for the past…oh, say twenty-four hours was certainly taking its toll on him.

"Oh mah god…" Miss Texas whispered, watching as L finished off the pastry. "Hun, do you _know_ how many calories that has in it?"

"I would guess somewhere from four-hundred to five-hundred?" L suggested, licking his fingers off. "Why?"

"Oh hun, you can't eat that stuff," she scolded, gently placing her hands over her perfectly slim stomach, gray dress skintight over her curvy frame. "You'll get SO fat, hun, and you'll lose the competition! Anywahs, mah name is Halle Lidner, what's yours?"

"My name is Elle Johnson," L said, lustily eyeing the woman's pastry. "I am from Connecticut."

"Okah, I'll introduce you to everybody else, hun!" she said excitedly, gesturing to all of the other girls at their table. "Miss Nevada is Mataline Jeevas, Miss Florida is Misa Amane, Miss Hawaii is Kiyomi Takada, Miss Michigan is Matsada Touta, Miss Maine is Sayu Robbins, and Miss Tennessee is Bluebell Brown."

"And this is Natalie Pohlman, she's from Alaska!" interrupted Matsada, excitedly pointing to Near. "Miss New York is Melina Scott, and Miss California is Lauren Conners!"

"So now that we know each other, we'll have to see if we can all room in the same hall!" Mataline said excitedly, grabbing on to Mello's arm in her 'excitement.' "Hey Melina, do you want to room in a suite with me?"

"I'm already rooming with Natalie," Mello said dumbly, apparently not noticing how much Mataline wanted to room with him. "And then Elle is rooming with Lauren…but maybe we'll get lucky and be in rooms next to each other, right?"

"I hope so," she smiled at Mello, turning to glare daggers at Near a moment later. "So anyways, since the brunch is almost over, I guess we'll just have to see each other in a while, right? California, here we come!"

"Oh boy," Light sighed, brushing his hair back into place as he continued to scan the room. However, something caught his eye—there was a person standing in the corner of the room, black hood up around their head. They went unnoticed as all of the girls giggled and talked, but as soon as they noticed Light was looking at them; they quickly slipped out of the main doors.

"Hey, did anybody see that guy over there?" Light asked casually, gesturing over to the direction the man was standing moments before. "He looked kind of weird, and he had a hood on over his head?"

"Wha? I didn't see nobody," Halle said, standing up blatantly and looking over in the direction Light gestured. "Anywahs, I think that the brunch is over…we'll see each other in California then, won't we?"

"I'll see you in California, Melina," smiled Mataline, brushing Mello's arm and chest a bit too low for Near's tastes. Swear to god, Near saw her hand run over Mello's fake boobs, stupid pervy girl. However, it didn't seem like ever-oblivious Mello noticed a single thing; he just waved and watched as everybody left but the four agents.

"Well, I guess Mataline's pretty nice," he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "But I really hate these fake boobs, they feel so damn weird, you know?"

"Mataline is not that _nice_," Near said, looking at the chocolate pastry that rested in front of him. "She may be, in fact, the Beauty Killer herself—we need to watch out for everybody, and not trust anybody but those we are positive are on our side…but that aside, would Mello like my chocolate pastry? He knows that I do not favour chocolate…"

"What did you do to it?" the blonde asked suspiciously, looking at it like there was no way in hell it couldn't be poisoned.

"I did not _do_ anything, if Mello does not want it; all he has to do is say so."

Slowly, the blonde held open his hand, Near lifting up the pastry and setting it into his waiting palm. It was only then that Mello fully noticed how cute Near looked with his white curls framing his face, eyelashes so voluptuous they looked like they should weigh his eyelids down, and small, light pink lips. Mikami had even given him a pair of bright blue contacts that rested over his normally gray eyes, and it just personified his appearance of an adorable girl. However, what Mello kept forcing himself to remember was that Near was his _partner_, nothing more, nothing less. Even if he wasn't, it wasn't as if the always-emotionless Near would hold the same feelings that he held towards him.

"I suppose it is time to go," L said, standing up and smoothing out his dress. "We're off to California, now."

"No, really, did you guys see that man over there?" Light asked again, gesturing to the corner where the person had stood. "I mean…he didn't belong here, that was for sure, and I just wonder how he got past security and stuff…"

"He is not here now, so I suppose that we will just have to keep an eye out for him," said Near, standing up and making sure all of his curls were in place. "But for now, we must go to California. We do not want to be late for any of the competitions—that would give up a huge disadvantage, especially considering that we have to get into the top ten."

With that, the four agents made their way outside, not knowing that somebody had been—and still was—watching their every move.

"Natalie Pohlman or Lauren Conners?" whispered a voice, delicate-fingered hands brushing a few locks of stray hair back into place. "Or maybe both…hm…"

* * *

**End Note: **Oh mai god. This scene was too fun to write, even though most of it is from the movie. Anyways, in case you couldn't tell, Matsada is girl!Matsuda. I'm sorry if you don't like her…but I love her. Matsuda as a bubbly girl, with black pigtails, unintentionally threatening to blow the agent's cover at every turn? Yes. Oh, and, Mataline is girl!Matt… and have you sensed the JEALOUSY? *is failing at developing Light and L's relationship*

~FragilePuzzle


	4. Secrets In The Bathroom

**A/N: **Nextttt CHAPTER!! Okay, now the actual beauty competition starts…hurhur, is anybody besides me extremely excited for the swimsuit competition? X3 Truth be told, I'm not exactly how they're going to pull it off, what with them having wieners and such, but I'm sure I can find a loophole somewhere. *now wants to see Mello in a bikini VERY badly*

* * *

The private helicopter that had been sent to Texas just for the agents was currently flying over the states that separated Texas from California, and the agents were doing their required reports to the men back at headquarters, even though they had technically seen it all for themselves. As soon as those were over, there was a combination of eating, sleeping, and playing mind games on each other until they finally settled down in Sacramento, California. Whirling to a stop outside of what appeared to be a luxury hotel that was reserved specifically for the Miss USA pageant, the four agents quickly found out that they were the first ones there—which meant that they got first choice in hotel rooms, which was good. If they hadn't been able to room together, that meant that they would have to be completely secretive around their female roommates in order to not blow their cover, and it was just comforting to know that they would be able to take the boobs, wigs, and high heels off every once and a while.

"I want the rooms with Jacuzzis," Mello demanded, striding towards the hotel and running into the doors of the lobby that he realized later said 'pull,' not 'push.' However, he recollected himself a moment later, allowing Light to open the door for him, the four of them going inside and walking up to the front desk.

"Are you all here for the Miss USA pageant?" the man behind the desk asked, blatantly eye-humping them. "Wow Miss Alaska, you certainly are…mm…_adorable_."

"Shut the fuck up and show us our rooms," hissed Mello, slamming his hands down on to the desk as he leaned forward. "Capiche?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, Miss New York," he stuttered nervously, gesturing for the bellhop to come and escort them to the floor they would be staying on. "Any preferences you have for rooms?"

"I'm sharing a room with Natalie, and I want a Jacuzzi," smirked Mello, grabbing Near around the waist and pulling him closer. "You know, in case we get _dirty_, and a bath just won't cut it~"

The man practically nosebled at the thought, watching intently as Mello's hand worked its way up Near's side, gently squeezing and caressing one of the smaller boy's false breasts before the bellhop led them off towards the elevators. After the monotonous elevator music dulled to a stop, and the steel doors silently slid open, the four men were escorted to the hall that had apparently been 'decorated' appropriately for their arrival. It looked like some kind of cheap lover's suite with pink-tinted lighting and rose petals scattered all about, but apparently, girls thought that this was 'breathtaking.'

"May I ask why Mello felt the need to touch my breasts so intimately?" Near asked, gray-turned blue eyes gently tracing over Mello's face as he watched the blonde shut the door to their newfound room. "It was really not necessary, was it?"

Mello turned back to the smaller boy, locking the door before slipping his blonde wig off and quickly unlacing his gladiator heels, tossing the wig on to the bed and the heels on to the floor behind the door. The blonde flopped down on to one of the double beds, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment as he let out a contented sigh, opening them a moment later to look at Near.

"That guy down there was fucking trying to hit on you!" he said, readjusting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes again. "You're an agent, what if he finds out about you and blows your cover, huh?"

"I suppose that Mello may have a point," Near said, dexterous hands beginning to unlace the ribbons that kept his dress held in place, allowing the white and pink material to slide on to the floor a moment later. The small boy stepped out of it, bending over and exposing his ass to Mello as he picked it up and set it neatly on the bed. Now Mello was most definitely pretending to have his eyes closed, because as Near slipped off his Mary-Janes and knee-high white socks, his thin frame now only dressed in a pair of skimpy white lacy panties, a thin white tank top, and the fake breast holster that covered his chest underneath the tank top. The wig of curls still rested on his head, but he slipped it off before his tank top, setting the hair down on to the bed and removing his tank top a moment later. However, it appeared that he couldn't get the holster undone, so he expectantly walked over to Mello, turning and gesturing for the blonde to begin undoing the hooks that held it up. The blonde only cracked an eye open, as if he had just been innocently lying there the whole time, in no way, shape, or form perving on his partner.

"What?" he asked dumbly, running his fingers through his hair.

"I would appreciate it if Mello could take the time of day to help me remove this contraption," Near said curtly, heart fluttering on the inside as he hoped Mello would notice that he was _trying_ to be seductive, and that he had aimed so that he was _just_ seductive enough that it would look like an accident, and Mello would…completely brush it off as Near's case of social retarded-ness.

"Sure, sure," groaned the blonde, pretending to be exasperated as his hands expertly undid the hooks one by one, fingers _unintentionally_ brushing against the smooth skin of Near's back. Finally, the thing dropped to the floor, and Mello was given a chance to observe Near's adorable ass up close, this time, as the small boy bent over to retrieve it off of the floor. He couldn't believe how smart he was, sometimes…purposely dropping it on the floor so Near would bend over…yeah, we WAS a genius.

"I believe I am going to go situate myself with a bath," Near muttered, walking off towards the bathroom, feeling Mello's eyes roam his body, whether intentional or unintentional.

"Okay," Mello shrugged. "I'm sure Mikami will be here soon, with our clothes and makeup and stuff, so I'll just let him in when he gets here."

"Very well," nodded the smaller boy, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

"Ugh…_god_…" Mello sighed, slipping out of his dress as well. "Why do you enjoy torturing me so?"

~*~*~*~

"Light, are you almost finished in there?" L asked, knocking on the bathroom door. He tilted his head for a moment, waiting for a response, knocking again a second later. "Light?"

"L, I'm in the fucking bathtub!" growled Light, the sound of water splashing being heard from outside of the door as the brunette exasperatedly smacked his hand against the water. "What the hell is it to you, anyways? I've NEVER seen you shower, you dirty heffer!"

"Would Light mind if I joined him, then?" asked the black-haired man, gently tracing the tip of his thin finger over the many intricate designs that covered the bathroom door. "I believe, that, then, he would be able to see that I do shower and bathe—daily, in fact—"

"No, you socially retarded pervert, we're not bathing together!" Light said, splashing the water again. "Now get the hell out, and leave me alone, I need to relax!"

L sighed, beginning to chew on his thumbnail as he shuffled back out into the main part of the suite, black eyes scanning the room as he decided on a chair to sit in. Thankfully, when they were in their rooms, they didn't have to worry about disguising themselves as members of the female species, so L had been able to change back into his preferred change of clothing—a plain white, long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans. Slowly, the raven-haired man sat himself down in the Victorian-style chair, having to brush some rose petals off of it as he made himself comfortable. Now he could just relax, and wait calmly until Light got out of the bath, and—

—he wanted cake. He wanted sweets…he needed sugar. Did they have anything here? Maybe…Light would know!

Slowly, the detective stood himself back up, shoving one hand in his pocket and positioning the other by his lip to offer himself full thumbnail-chewing access. He made his way back to the bathroom, spidery toes becoming entangled in the shaggy fur carpets with every step, until finally, he arrived back at the bathroom. This time, the man did not bother to knock as he simply opened the door and walked in to a sight he most definitely did not expect to see. Light was reclining in the tub, head back and lips parted as his hand busied itself with playing his pre-cum-dripping erection.

"Light?" L asked nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just walked in on the most enticing sight he had ever seen—but what made it all the better was that L noticed the fact that Light's dress, which was resting on the floor, had a small bit of pre-cum on it, which meant Light had started masturbating when he was in the dress. L also observed that Light still had the pair of lacy, woman's panties hooked around his ankle…maybe he was aroused by wearing women's clothing?

"L-L?!" he stuttered, face flushing an even darker red than it had been moments earlier as the brunette attempted to cover himself. "W-what are you…why didn't you k-knock?"

"I was simply wondering if Light knew whether or not we had sweets?" L asked hopefully, trying to memorize the sight before him. It might do him good later tonight, if you catch his drift. However, it didn't seem as though Light found this situation as amusing or arousing as he did—at all.

"G-get out!" demanded the brunette, cracking his knuckles and signaling to L that he already had something painful coming, and he did _not_ want to make that any worse on himself.

"But Light—"

"OUT!!!"

L shuffled out of the bathroom, dejectedly making his way into the kitchen, having been gifted an extremely obvious boner, but not the knowledge of where any sweets could be found.

~*~*~*~

Mello was relaxing on his bed when he heard the knock at his door. The blonde agent figured that it was Mikami, coming with their new dresses and makeup, so the now-naked-except-for-a-pair-of-black-boxer-shorts man stood up off of the bed, stretching and yawning before walking across the room to see who was there. He blinked a few times before bending down a bit and looking out the peephole of the door—only to see that it was not Mikami that was there, but Mataline.

The girl waved enthusiastically, now changed from her fancy dress into a miniskirt and revealing tank top, her red hair still framing her face cutely. However, as Mello looked around the room, he realized that he was, in fact, half-naked without his false breasts or wig, and he still didn't have a change of clothes.

"Mello, is somebody at the door?" Near asked from the bathroom, the door slowly opening as he walked out. His usually curly and silky-soft hair was dripping in wet strands that clung to his face, but the small boy had managed to get all of his disguising makeup off, much to Mello's chagrin.

"Um, Mello?" the voice asked outside. "Is that you, Melina? They told me this was your room, were they wrong or something?"

Mello desperately turned to Near for some sort of assistance, but the boy had none, Near only continuing to stand there and hold up the towel he had wrapped around his body—what a girlish trait, everybody knew that only girls wrapped towels around their body because they had tits, but guys only had to wrap them around their waist—

"Who is at the door?" Near asked, adjusting his towel as he took a step forward. "That voice is reminiscent of Mataline's…"

"Yeah, it's Mataline, so now help me get into my fucking dress!" growled Mello, looking around the room desperately. "Um, Mataline, I'll be right there!"

"We cannot let her in," Near deadpanned, adjusting the weight of his body from one leg to another, which caused the slit of the towel to give in to his leg, pale limb now exposed to Mello's totally-not-wandering eye. "Or, if Mello really feels as though we must, we will have to find a way to hide the fact that we are not females—"

"Yeah, I know that, dumbass," hissed Mello, looking around the room before his eyes focused on the large Jacuzzi in the corner. "I have a plan."

Mello gestured for Near to grab his breast holster, yanking the small boy back and quickly lacing it up while he constantly reassured Mataline that he would 'be there in a second.' Finally, the blonde grudgingly slipped on a pair of underwear and a bra to cover his breast holster, grabbing a towel and wrapping it over his head as he had seen his mother do when he was younger. He gestured for Near to do the same thing before going over to get into the Jacuzzi, his plan now put into motion. The towel would hide the fact that their wigs were not on, and the underwear, bra, and false breasts were just in case Mataline was as assertive as Mello thought she would be, and possibly decided to join them in the Jacuzzi.

"You go answer the door," demanded the blonde, turning on the Jacuzzi and settling himself into the bubbles.

Near rolled his eyes before observing how ridiculous he looked—the only reason that he would answer the door, and not Mello, was because since his 'breasts' were smaller, there was a less chance of Mataline noticing that he was, in fact, a boy. His lithe frame was also much more feminine than Mello's, so even as Near walked over and unlocked the door, exposing himself to Mataline—frilly panties and matching lacy bra—it was not by choice.

"Hey," she said, voice light and airy but eyes narrowing with spite as she looked at Near. "Is Melina here?"

"Melina is in the Jacuzzi," Near said softly, smiling a bit when Mataline noticed that Near was still dripping wet—from his bath, not the Jacuzzi, but in Near's eyes…well, what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. If she thought that Near was wet from being in the Jacuzzi with Mello in nothing but a skimpy bra and panties, that was _her_ wrong assumption, and Near could do nothing to stop that.

"Hey Mataline—" started Mello, being cut off by ever-curt Near a second later.

"Was there something that Mataline required?" Near asked, arms folded over his chest as he looked at the offended girl. "Because, if there is not, I would enjoy the privilege of continuing to…_relax_ with Melina."

"N-No, there's nothing I _need_," Mataline said, trying to stay cool as jealousy and rage twisted itself in knots at the pit of her stomach. "I just stopped by to say 'hi,' that's all."

"Hello," said Near, voice soft and sweet as he shut the door in Mataline's face. "And goodbye."

Mello jawdropped as he looked at his partner—he had never seen Near act like that towards _anybody_, not even the criminals they had caught in the past. He was always monotone and silent, maybe making a snarky remark here and there, when the situation was just begging for one, or the opportunity presented itself, but never actually _trying_ to be the instigator. Seeing Near like this—it was pretty hot, actually.

"Near, what the hell was that?" Mello snorted, standing up out of the Jacuzzi, water dripping down his lean and toned frame.

"In the words taken from Mello's own mouth—it was only what was necessary to protect the safety of this mission," said Near, sliding the chain-lock into place, his outer voice and stance both back to completely monotone. However, on the inside, he was giving himself a high-five as congratulations—he'd be damned if that stupid girl got into the Jacuzzi with Mello.

"You really think Mataline's dangerous?" asked Mello, stepping out of the Jacuzzi and walking over to Near, their slickened bodies touching for the briefest of unintentional moments as Mello leaned over and peeked out of the peephole.

Sometimes, Near took some extra time out of his day to thank whatever force that made Mello so damn stupid yet sexily irresistible at the same time.

* * *

**End Note: **Awww, Near's such a jealous little uke. X3 Dun worry, stupid Mello's gonna step it up in the competition, but I was just sick of Near always being the one that got protected by Mello. This time, Near's being possessive of his favorite toy~! Anyways, yus, Light does wank in the bathtub. And yes, L is a socially awkward retard. Wooo for character development.

~FragilePuzzle


	5. HEARTBREAKER

**A/N: **Nexxxxxxtttt CHAPTER!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAYY. Anyways, sorry for the long wait...I was uninspired. This chapter was my roadblock, but I'll be getting them out faster now. I needta make Light and L's relationship more prominent—but as I'm writing this, I just thought of an awesome way to include lemon. Surprise, yas? : D

However, if you really and truly love me, you will review. No joke. I love your reviews—I live off of them. X3 /end review whore

* * *

"Okay gals!" Mikami said excitedly, clapping his hands together as he looked at each of them in turn. The four men were seated in Mello and Near's room, all in front of the large mirror that covered half of the bathroom wall—apparently, Mikami had to 'make them gorgeous,' even when, right after this, they had to go somewhere secluded and practice their talents for the up-and-coming talent show. After a few hours of practicing, they had to get all dressed up—again—making sure that they had their pin cameras on them, and then it was off to lunch (thankfully, not brunch this time) with all of the other contestants. Apparently, when you were a girl, you were _always_ worried about your appearance.

"Did you just say _gals_?" Mello asked disbelievingly, letting Mikami begin to adjust the blonde wig that rested atop his head. "Look, okay, we might be acting and dressing like girls, but that does not make us _gals_. It makes us transvestites."

"That is very true," L said, clumsily pulling his wig up into a messy ponytail so it wouldn't be in his face. "Now, I assume that we are supposed to have some sort of talent that we may display?"

"You…don't have your talents even…_chosen_ yet?" Mikami asked suddenly, accidentally burning Near's neck with the curling iron, causing the small boy to hiss in pain and drop the bottle of pink nail polish he was holding—which, in turn, spilled all over his lap, and Mello was (of course) only being helpful when he set a tissue in the pink liquid and began to blot it up. He was, by no means, pressing a little harder than he should have been, and technically copping a feel on Near.

"No, we don't have talents yet…" Light said, applying some of his makeup, because he had already _learned _how.

"Is there anything you're specifically good at? You all can't have the same talent, so—"

"Fighting," the all blurted out in unison, looking at each other with squinted eyes a moment later.

"I said it first," Mello demanded, hand still in Near's lap as it clenched into a fist and pushed down slightly, causing Near to glare rudely at Mello and wince slightly. However, the blonde didn't notice as he gave his own infamous glare to Mikami, the man looking terrified as he was forced to choose who said it first. However, it was Near who saved him from having to make an even more difficult choice by backing out himself.

"I know how to play several different instruments," he sighed softly, shoving Mello's hand out of his lap. "Piano, violin, viola, cello, and flute. My mother also forced me to take singing lessons when I was young, and I believe I still retain some of the knowledge from those lessons…"

"Good…now, Elle and Lauren, you two can come up with some kind of cute choreographed fight routine, how does that sound?" Mikami said, clapping his hands together as the two nodded and Mello sighed exasperatedly and flopped back into his chair. "Now Melina, we have to come up with a talent for you, what do you say?"

"Like what?" he sneered, crossing his arms and crinkling his nose as he looked up at the suited man. "I can't play instruments, I can't sing, and now I can't fight. I'm good at fighting and working on cases with Near, but that's it."

Near's heart skipped a few beats as his eyelashes nervously fluttered, but he showed no outward signs of distress besides a slight hitching of his breath. That was the first time he had _ever_ heard Mello say _anything_ good about their partnership. Usually it was, "I'm good at working with cases as long as dumbass Near doesn't get in my way." But…today…it was different. Maybe Mello wasn't thinking straight because he was in a bad mood, but either way, the small boy was going to be on a secret elated high for the rest of the day.

"What about past jobs?" Mikami asked. "Did you ever work a job that could possibly contribute to your talent? Maybe you were a bartender—"

"Mello does not like to talk about it—" Near tried to interrupt, but it was Light that brought it all tumbling down.

"He was a teenage stripper!"

There was silence in the room for a moment. Dead. Silence. And then, there were several exclamations at once, mostly consisting of Mello charging at Light and threatening to rip his pretty boy head off, L holding back Light and trying to stop him from doing the same thing, Near quickly standing up and moving himself between Light and Mello, and Mikami clapping his hands together excitedly and exclaiming something about how everything was 'just so perfectly fitting!'

After a moment, Light had calmed down and was sitting back over in his chair by L, and Near had managed to convince Mello that he would get more satisfaction out of killing Light with a knife or a chainsaw that simply ripping his head off with his bare hands. But it was then that Mikami rushed over to Mello's chair and gave him a large embrace, body shaking with repressed happiness.

"Okay, tell me all about it," he said, brushing his hair back. "Did you have a tragic background, and then you were forced to become a stripper to survive? Was it a beautiful story of hope and survival, love and loss, and life and death?"

"No, I just wanted to be a fucking stripper, okay?" the blonde hissed, the expression on his face signifying that he was close to flipping a very giant bitchfit. "And I really don't see why it matters now, anyways. I'm an agent, and that's all I am."

"Darling, I don't think you understand! If you do an exotic dance for your talent, the judges will _eat that up_. Most of the girls are boring, you see, always singing and twirling batons, but if we have a choreographed fight scene and am exotic dancer? We're most definitely going to stand out. And if Natalie has real talent, she'll be able to stand out…most of the other girls can only play Mary Had A Little Lamb, anyways. Dears, I think we have something good here!" Mikami said, helping them finish what little things they had to do to finish getting ready. "I'm so excited! My name is going to be associated with yet _another _Miss America winner…my name in lights, once again."

"Whatever," growled Mello, fists clenching as his eye twitched slightly. "So…I have to…_dance_?"

"Like stripping without taking your clothes off!" smiled Mikami, turning Mello's chair towards the mirror and beginning to apply smoky and seductive makeup to his scowling face. "It'll be perfect, and it'll easily shoot you into the top ten…now all we have to do is decide on a song for you to dance to!"

"Let's…just…go…practice…" said the blonde, having to force every word out in order not to begin screaming obscenities.

It was times like _these_ when Near was so glad he took ridiculous missions like this.

~*~*~*~

The four agents were sitting in the commons, each dressed in casual women-wear—tank tops and jeans, for the most part—when Mataline ran up to them, large green eyes sparkling with excitement as she ignored the three other men that were sitting there and turned to Mello.

"Hey Melina, do you want to go clubbing with us tonight?" she asked, her hands clutching each other behind her back, a completely fake blush covering her slightly freckled face as she looked at Mello and bit her lip in false nervousness. "It's gonna be me, Matsada, Halle, Misa-Misa, Takada, Sayu, and Bluebell! What do you say—it'll be really fun!!"

"Is that really the wisest idea?" Near asked, straightening out his skirt as he looked up at Mataline with a smile on his face that was just as fake as hers. "The talent competition is tomorrow morning. Having a hangover and nothing but a small amount of sleep might not be good for Melina's performance. She does have a very…intricate performance planned."

"Ooh, what is it, Melina?" Mataline asked excitedly, fists clenching as she looked at Near, but Mello not noticing—of course.

"I can't tell you yet!" the blonde said, smiling at her. "But clubbing _does_ sound fun…is it okay if Natalie and Elle and Lauren come too?"

It was obvious that Mataline didn't want them anywhere near her and 'Melina,' but since the blonde had requested, she accepted, of course. A moment later, she smiled sweetly at each of them in turn, waving a quick goodbye before skipping off. Near damned her for being such a slut when it came to Mello…she was wearing a short black miniskirt that _barely_ covered her crotch, exposing the very bottom of her frilly pink panties, as well as a black-and-white striped tank top that went down so low Near didn't think it should be legal. At this rate, she was going to have Mello wrapped around her pinky finger, and the blonde would completely ignore conservative Near, who, according to Mikami, was 'too small to be the svelte or sexy type.' He was just little old, 'cute' Near who had to put on blue contacts and thick, false eyelashes to even have a chance at catching Mello's eye.

"I suppose we could observe any suspicious behavior by lulling them into a false sense of security. Maybe one of them knows something about the Beauty Killer," Near said curtly, standing up and glancing at them all for a moment, observing their nods of agreement. "Then I suppose I will see the three of you later tonight."

With that, Near walked off and went up to the bedroom, determined to get ready for the outing later that night.

~*~*~*~

When Mello came up to the room he was sharing with Near, his jaw dropped. Mikami was in the room, whistling happily as he applied the rest of Near's makeup. The small boy was wearing a hot pink miniskirt with black and white plaid—and when Mello said 'miniskirt,' he meant _mini_skirt. It could have possibly been even shorter than Mataline's, exposing the small boy's thin and perfectly pale and flawless legs. The top was a whole different thing. It was a black, short-sleeved top with rips covering the chest, back, sides, arms and stomach, the only material that was not exposing his flesh with well-placed tears in the fabric a few inches that were put there only to cover his 'breasts.' In other words, he was a major nosebleed.

"Hello, Mello," he said, having apparently opted for a straight white wig tonight, the normal ringlets being traded in for sleek and shiny hair. "I believe that I am almost ready."

Mikami finished dabbing a bit of pale lip concealer on his lips, gesturing for him to smack them together a moment later. He turned to Mello fully, and the blonde saw that he had smoky black eyeliner on as well, his lips paled so he didn't look like he was some kind of whore. Instead…he just looked really hot.

"Is Mello ready?" he asked, smoothing out his top and readjusting his breast holster. "We should be meeting Mataline and the other girls downstairs now."

"I need to…get changed…" he said, eyes affixed on Near's legs and nearly-exposed crotch…if only the skirt were just a bit higher…mm…

~*~*~*~

The bass was pounding as the ten women (well…six women and four men in disguise) made their way into the club. Mello had adorned his usual attire for the occasion, opting for a simple pair of leather pants and his vest that exposed his stomach and caught both Mataline and Near's eyes. Light was wearing a simple, light blue, loose V-top with a pair of straight black pants, and L was wearing a simple white skirt with a black cashmere turtleneck—courtesy of Mikami, of course.

"Do ya'll wanna dance?" Halle asked, grabbing on to Misa's arm as soon as the blonde girl enthusiastically nodded, leading her out on to the dance floor. However, as to be expected, when Mello shook his head 'no' and went to go sit at a glow-in-the-dark-paint-splattered table, Mataline followed. And wherever Mataline went, it seemed as though Matsada had a tendency to follow. So, Mello, L, Light, Mataline, Matsada, Takada, Sayu, and Bluebell went to go sit at the large table—it gave them a perfect view of the dance floor, which Mello duly noted had stripper poles that jutted from the floor in all imaginable places. However, when Mello turned to Near to ask which girl seemed the most suspicious, the small boy was nowhere to be found. The blonde's eyes scanned the club, coming to rest on a white-haired girl that had made her way out on to the dance floor with two blondes. She was wearing a pink miniskirt with black and white plaid as well as a ripped black top—

—Jesus H. Christ, Near was starting to dance on a fucking stripper pole. The small boy was inexperienced, yes, but that didn't stop all of the men in the club from gawking at the beauty that was letting her skirt slide up past the tips of her lacy white panties. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, what the hell was he doing? Even when Near stared at him with a slightly shy and seductive smirk on his face, Mello _still_ had no idea what the _hell_ the small boy though he was doing.

"Hey Melina…" Mataline said, voice seductive as she placed her arm on Mello's own, leaning over and exposing her cleavage to the blonde. Mello managed to tear his eyes away from the sight that was Near pole-dancing to look at the redheaded girl, his eyes flickering to her in-your-face cleavage before rising back up to meet her own green orbs.

"Yeah?"

Near saw this, of course, and needless to say, he wasn't happy. If simple seduction wouldn't work, then he was going to have to try jealousy…now was his chance, he almost had Mello in his grasp, and if Mello called him out for acting like a slut, he always had the excuse that it _was_ what females did at clubs, and he was only trying to blend in.

"My god is that hot…" Gevanni breathed, staring raptly at the screen that showed the dancing Near, whom was now running his nimble hands up and down his own body, attracting both males and females now. "This is recording, right?"

Back in the club, a new song started, providing Near with the perfect opportunity. He would get Mello's attention, god-be-damnned.

_Ayo! Finally!  
Is this what you've been waiting for?  
I'm all by myself, but it's all good  
You're my heartbreaker  
Let me take this song_

Near lightly gripped the pole in his sweaty hands, wrapping a leg around it and gracefully spinning, stopping and slowly sliding up and down the piece of shiny metal a moment later. Gray hidden under blue flashed to the blonde's table a moment later, and as the bass pumped particularly loud, the blonde flashed his eyes over to Near. Now was his chance…he was better that Madeline, no matter how much she was batting her eyelashes and running her fingertips down Mello's toned arms.

_You're my heart-heart-heart-heart-heart breaker! No way! No way!_

Near slid up and down the pole, occasionally exposing his panties, not really caring how many people were gawking as long as he held Mello's attention—which he now had, of course, as well as many other people. L was busy wishing Light would go out there, and the brunette was staring at L stare at Near…somehow, he was a bit…_jealous_ of the smaller, younger, cuter Near. He couldn't understand why he felt that way when he saw the way L was raptly staring at the white-haired boy, but it made him want to _do_ something about it. So he did. The honey-eyed man made his way out on to the floor, taking the pole next to Near and beginning to dance as best he could—he was pretty good, neither man was an expert, but now both Mello and L were choking on their spit. This was just too good…then they decided that they needed to go clubbing more often.

_You're my heart-heart-heart breaker  
You're my heart-heart-heart breaker-breaker  
H-E-A-R-T breaker!_

Nobody noticed as Bluebell set down her drink and softly whispered she had a headache, tucking a strand of her shoulder-length black hair behind her ear and then walking off. Hell, nobody even remembered that she was there as Near, Light, Halle, and Misa-Misa came back to the table, the now-nine partying until sunrise.

* * *

**End Note: **I need some good songs for Melz to strip to…I like the slightly peppy and sexy songs, though, because I have a lot of slow ones. XD Maybe 'Cherry Pie' by Warrant. :'D That would be awesome. It'll probably end up being some Korean white-gangster song. I love G-DRAGON and BigBang. Go listen to them. Right now.

~FragilePuzzle


	6. I Have Talent!

**A/N: **Oh yum. = w = I just played Akane's new game—L's Difficult Successors…it was delish. Mm…though I wish she did draw more explicit things—we'll leave that for Infection, won't we? Anyways, if you want to play, go to her website (cursedmoons . com) and then download it. I highly recommend it. Now on to the story. ^ ^ Sorry for the small wait, but this chapter is about twice as long as my normal chapters. XD

* * *

The five women and four men arrived back at the hotel at some obscenely early hour in the morning—Mello had gotten smashed, and L, Light, and Near were pretty drunk themselves. However, so were all of the other girls…which was not good, considering that the talent competition was that night. However, Near just led the giggling Mello over to the elevator, L and Light following closely behind. Light was not as drunk as his comrades, in no way at all—so he easily noticed when L wrapped his lanky arm around his toned waist. When Light looked down at the agent with large, curious eyes, he gained no response, the black-haired man just continuing to stare forward blankly. However, Light could feel as L's pale, spidery fingers gently worked their way under the very edge of his shirt…trying to be subtle, eh? That wasn't exactly working, but it wasn't as though the brunette minded L's nimble fingers against his skin.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

There was a scream Near immediately realized as Mataline's, and the small boy quickly whirled around to see where the redheaded girl was looking. She had an arm extended as a horrified look contorted her face, shaking finger pointing up at the giant window that allowed sunlight to filter into the main lobby. All nine of them slowly looked up, and it was there that they saw quite the gruesome sight. There was a girl, hung by some ropes that wound their way around the golden panes of the windows, her body bloodied and mangled beyond recognition. A tattered sash hung off of her limp body, one that read 'North Dakota.' The Beauty Killer was at it again—even from the ground, Near could tell it was him. The victim's mouth was ripped open in a Glasgow smile, a red rose inserted into the gash, and then it was stitched back up around the crimson flower.

"Matsada, please get me a phone!" demanded Light, pulling away from Light and watching as Near handed Mello to L, gesturing for the black-haired man to go back up to a room and contact the police headquarters. "Matsada, we need to call the police!"

However, Matsada just stood there, her pink lips agape as a small drip of blood tainted the carpet in front of her. It was Mataline who had to drag her back to the room the two of them shared, both of them hiding their eyes and running away from the disgusting scene.

"Lauren…" Near said softly, turning to Light. "What does Lauren think we should do?"

"Call the police."

"The Beauty Killer…" Near whispered, turning around and going back up to his room with Mello, as not to stand out and be left at the scene of the crime.

~*~*~*~

The next morning, after the four awoke (and were only able to get out of bed thanks to massive amounts of painkillers and hangover cures), they immediately made their way downstairs. The body was removed, but the crime scene was still set up and in full flush. However, the Miss USA pageant hadn't been canceled. In fact, it had been just the opposite—although the girls were scared, a major competitor had just been taken out of the game, despite how terrible that sounded. And today was the talent competition…a single round that knocked them down to the top ten contestants. Those top ten contestants would be in the rest of the competition together, until the final judging, which they would get knocked down to the top five, then the top three, and then the final winner.

The four men quickly met together in the middle of the lobby, their pin cameras and earpieces perfectly in place. However, Near heard a small voice in his ear—he recognized it as Gevanni's almost immediately.

"Hey, woah, Near, I didn't know you could dance that well!" he said…Near could practically see the perverted look on his superior's face. The man had held a crush on him for years, always claiming that perhaps if he 'grew to know a little bit more about Near,' that the small boy would have quite an opportunity for promotion. However, Near would not sink to the level of sleeping with his boss…partner, maybe, but—oh, what the hell was he thinking now?

"You do realize that we can hear you as well, do you not?" L asked into his microphone, Light rolling his eyes and Mello seething as the three others heard the compliment Gevanni had given Near.

"Ah, right," he muttered, apparently backing away from the microphone now.

"Anyhow…" murmured Near, twirling a ringlet in his hair around his finger. "I suppose we should…spend the rest of our time wisely…"

The small boy then clutched his head, gracefully falling into a nearby armchair, his temples throbbing as his hangover-induced headache came back full-throttle.

"We should probably take cold showers—I've heard they're good for headaches and hangovers," Light suggested, running his fingers through the wig that adorned his head. "The only problem is, I don't know where we could shower where we we're sure not to be interrupted…"

"I know of one," L interrupted, nodding as he began to chew on his thumbnail again. "Please follow me…"

~*~*~*~

The four men arrived in the public shower-room; not having enough time to take separate showers in their rooms—much to L and Mello's pleasure…and secretly to Light and Near's as well, though the latter two men would never admit it. L apparently thought nobody ever went there, and they were all ready to get their showers and cram in whatever practicing they could before the talent show started, so they blindly trusted the man. It wasn't until their bodies were slick with water and soap did they start…erm…_paying attention_ to one another. Near blatantly walked over to Mello, holding his hand out and gesturing for the blonde to hand him the bar of soap he had been using a moment earlier, hand on his hip, not self-conscious about his petite body in the least. The blonde complied, of course, and Near's always-whirring brain saw a chance to strike…he had been thinking about prison, and what would happen when they caught the Beauty Killer, when he then turned his eyes to the soap. Perfect.

Making his way back to his own personal nozzle on the wall, Near began to run the soap back and forth in his hands, bubbles beginning to froth against his pale-white skin. A moment later, when he noticed Mello was watching, he 'accidentally' let the soap slip out of his hands and to the floor. Sighing, maybe a bit too overdramatically for his normal façade he kept up, the small boy bent in half and picked it up. Normally, he would have done the sensible thing—crouched down, as not to expose his bare bum to anybody, but now…well, he was beginning to become a bit frustrated with Mello's complete density regarding his attraction to the blonde. If he was supposed to be smart, why the hell was he so damn DUMB all of the time? Regardless, Near knew his plan had worked when he felt Mello's icy blue eyes roaming his backside, causing the small boy to be a bit embarrassed, but otherwise fine with his predicament.

"Laaalalalaa~!"

They all heard a peppy voice beginning to sing as it made its way further into the locker room, and it was L who recognized it.

"Is that not Matsada?" he asked, chewing on his thumbnail as he rinsed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. "It certainly sounds familiar…"

"Shit," Light hissed, looking around desperately, eyes only catching a pile of towels and their earlier abandoned clothes—including their wigs. "We have to hide this crap, what is she comes in here and busts us??"

However, it was Near and Mello that knew what to do—they threw two towels to each man, keeping two for themselves, and gesturing for the other two-man team to wrap one towel around their head, and the other around their body. While they were struggling with that, each trying to help each other, Mello and Near were helping each other get the false breasts on underneath their towels. Just as Light had finished helping L with his head-towel, and Mello was doing up the last hook on Near's false breasts, the girl walked in.

"Hi there!" she said ecstatically, as if meeting them in the bathroom was the best thing that had ever happened to her in her life. "Melina, Natalie, Lauren, and Elle, I never thought you guys would be in these showers!"

"Yup, we shower around here all the time," nodded Mello, watching as Near crammed their clothes and wigs into a bag they had brought for dirty towels. "Anyways, we were just about to be going now, so we'll see you at the talent competition tonight, alright? Alright then, see you!"

The four men were out of that shower faster than a straight man was out of a gay bar, not even noticing the slightly sad look on Matsada's face as she realized Mataline wasn't with them.

"Hey…um…wait……have you guys seen Mataline?" she asked, even her black pigtails seeming to droop as she received no answer, the men already gone. "Oh well…"

~*~*~*~

And then, before they knew it…well, not before they knew it. It was after a long, hard day of relentless practice—fighting, exotic dancing, and playing the cello. Mikami had provided the safety mat for L and Light, a pole for Mello, and a cello for Near, securing into place their talents for that night's show. It was now eight-o-clock, and for the first time in the Miss USA pageant, they were live on television. Right now, all of the girls were waiting in the wings, each of them lined up in alphabetical order by state. Every single girl had on the same white evening gown, the silky dresses clinging to their form, their hair styled to perfection and their sashes without so much as a wrinkle.

"Girls, we're live in five…four…three…"

The stage host, a man who was apparently the cash behind this 'scholarship program,' Mister Aiber, was the one who greeted the live cameras.

"Hello there America, and welcome to the sixty-sixth annual Miss USA pageant!" he said, throwing out an arm as the Miss USA theme played, the girls beginning to walk on stage. "These fifty lovely ladies are the beautiful babes _you_, America, have chosen to be the rocking representatives of your states! …sorry, it's in the script—and, anyways, here we go! First up is Miss Alabama, Conner Redswath! Next up is Miss Alaska, Natalie Pohlman!"

The old man continued until all fifty girls had been introduced and were now standing in their respective spots on stage, each flashing a smile that showed off their glistening pearly whites. They would occasionally wave to a photographer or blow kisses at the camera, smoothing out their sashes and flipping their hair casually over their shoulder.

"And now that you've met these luscious lasses, it's about time for them to go get ready for the talent show! So don't move a muscle America, because we'll be right back after this short commercial break from our sponsors!"

There was a loud round of applause as all fifty-one people walked off of the stage and back into the wings. As soon as the girls made it back, each of them rushed over to the mirrors and began to get dressed and ready for their respective talents. Near discreetly slipped behind a large prop and changed into the light blue Lolita dress he was supposed to adorn for his cello playing, coming back out all dressed and ready. Mello stole a changing room, many of the other girls looking at him strangely for being 'afraid' to change in front of other girls—Mataline just looked sad. When he came back out, nobody noticed him particularly—he was just wearing a pair of plain jeans and a t-shirt. Near wondered how anybody was supposed to strip in that…wouldn't it be more effective if he had little to _no_ clothes on?

L and Light both changed into stretchy shorts and loose t-shirts that allowed for plenty of maneuverability, wrapping white tape around their joints and putting on protective gear on their heads and hands—they didn't need it, of course, but it was only as not to appear suspicious. Finally, when it came down to the socks they were required to wear…that was when it became a bit of a problem for both L and Light.

"Lauren…you know that I do not like socks," L deadpanned, looking at the socks as though they were going to bite his feet off, should he happen to put them on. "They are not comfortable for me in the least…"

"You have to put the damn socks on, '_Elle,'_" demanded Light, leaning over and beginning to try and force L's foot into one, only earning kicking and squirming from the other man.

"Lauren, I do not like socks!" L said, struggling until his chair flipped over backwards, falling out of the side of it and gripping on to Light's arm in desperation, bringing the other man down on top of him.

"You need to wear the damn socks!" the brunette demanded, straddling L and trying to force the plain white pieces of cloth on to his feet once again.

"I do not like cocks, Lauren!"

The whole room went silent as all of the girls in the room turned to stare at 'Lauren' and 'Elle,' who were currently roughhousing on the floor, Elle screaming something about how she 'didn't like cocks.' Well, if that weren't just such a great thing to know. Even Mello and Near stared, eyebrows raised as they held back laughter.

"I meant to say socks. I do not like socks," L clarified, blinking widely at the staring girls. "It was a simple mistake on mine. I do like cocks. Very much, actually. Please return to your business now. Thank you."

Everybody went back to their business, and then it was time for the talent show, Mello still internally laughing and taking a mental note to remind L that he liked cocks, later.

~*~*~*~

"First up for the talent show is Miss Nevada, Mataline Jeevas!" Aiber said, throwing back his arm and allowing the chesty redheaded girl to walk on to stage, nothing but a small skirt and a tank top adorning her figure. Apparently, she was a baton twirler…Near almost screamed and threw something at her when she bent over and blew a kiss to Mello. That skank was _obviously_ flirting with him now, and if Mello didn't realize it, the how the hell was he ever going to realize all of the subtle signals that Near himself had been sending?

However, what Near expected to be a regular baton twirling routine was actually—no, get this—it was _actually_ a regular baton twirling routine…except the batons were on FIRE! GET. THAT. Near was obviously being sarcastic when he went through this internal monologue in his head, duly clapping once as sheer good manners and a strict upbringing.

"Next up is a combined act we have—the only one of its kind, we haven't seen one in years…now folks, please give it up for Miss Connecticut and Miss California, Elle Johnson and Lauren Conners!"

The two men made their way out on to the stage, perfectly disguised as women, of course. They waved and blew kisses to the crowd while the stage muscleheads set up a mat in the middle of the platform, gesturing for the two girls to step on to it a moment later. The music started, and then the two men launched into a fight routine they had choreographed themselves. Mikami was almost in tears at the ending—apparently; he 'liked them tough,' whatever that meant.

_It's a wonderful night!  
You gotta take it from me  
It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down!_

Launching into a set of beautiful kicks and rolls, L and Light began to fight—Mello and Near were disappointed. It wasn't _nearly_ as intense as it was back at the academy, and they couldn't bet on who would win, because it was all choreographed and faked. The two were also a bit disappointed that it wasn't them out there, wowing the crowd and leaving them breathless as they preformed simple moves like the ones L and Light were doing. However, they had to give them props…they were now churning out the much more difficult moves, backflips and flying kicks. Everything a true agent would have memorized and been able to perform at an instant command.

_It's a wonderful night!_

_Go ahead and release_

_It's a wonderful night_

_Come on and break it on down!_

After the song ended, Light stepped on to L's outstretched arm, standing fully in the air with that as his only platform. He threw his hands up, smiling and waving at the crowd, his balance not faltering in the least, even as L's arm shook underneath his weight. As the audience screamed and clapped, they were escorted off of the stage, walking over to two large armchairs and falling into them, absolutely exhausted.

A few contestants later, including Misa-Misa, who did a singing and dancing routine, it was Near's turn. The small boy walked out, his hair in perfect ringlets, a cello and chair being set in the middle of the stage with a soft spotlight on them. He smoothed out his dress before sitting down, running the bow through some rosin before turning and waiting for Aiber to introduce him.

"This is Natalie Pohlman, and my does this bold girl ever look ready to stun us!" he joked, moving to the side. "She is going to be performing…_Danse Macabre_, by Camille Saint-Saens. Please hold your applause to the end, folks, I've heard this song before!"

Slowly, Near began to play the song—surprisingly, despite the fact he claimed he hadn't had lessons since he was a child, he was playing a sophisticated orchestra piece all by himself. The audience was stunned into silence as he sped up, his fingers deftly pressing down on each string in turn, and for the entire three minutes and fifty-two seconds he was playing the shortened version of the song, there was not a sound to be heard except the low ringing of his wooden cello. When the song was over, he stood up, face slightly red and fingers throbbing with pain, but he only took a dignified bow and made his way off of the stage, leaving the cello and chair for somebody else to pick up. It even took a moment before Aiber was able to speak again, and suddenly, the whole audience burst into the loudest applause yet. However, Near did not go back on stage to receive it, he simply ran a cloth underneath some cold water and placed it on his swollen fingers.

"That, folks, was Natalie Pohlman! I don't think our judges are going to be forgetting her any time soon! But next up, we have Miss California, Melina Scott! Well…heh, I think we're in for a…_unique_ treat here, especially for you men out there! Ladies, lock up your husbands, because here's Melina!"

Right before Mello went out on stage, he stripped out of his baggy t-shirt and plain pants, leaving them on the floor as he let down his hair that had been being held up by a loose ponytail moments earlier. As he walked on stage, there were lots of whistles and catcalls, but he was apparently used to it. It wasn't until the music started that Near looked up.

_I pick all my skirts to be a little too sex-y!_

_Just like all of my thoughts— they always get a bit naught-y!_

_When I'm out with my girls I always play a bit bitch-y!_

_Can't change the way I am! Sexy, naughty, bitchy me!_

Oh god. Near's palms began to sweat, and his mouth went dry the second he noticed Mello was on stage. His blonde hair was down messily around his face, with a black pair of…well, Near didn't know what to call them besides 'ass-shorts,' because that was pretty much the only part of the blonde they covered. His normal black vest accented his torso, exposing his lean legs; perfect stomach, toned arms…whether he was his partner, or not, Near didn't care at the moment. He just looked like a fucking sex god. And that was before he even started dancing.

The blonde's hands gripped the pole, and he elegantly twisted a leg around it, spinning down to the ground before slowly bringing himself back up, lightly grinding against the metal pole. Jesus—most people had to pay for live porn, and here the whole world was, getting it for free. Softcore porn with clothes, especially with the faces Mello was making, and the way he was shaking his ass.

_I'm the kind of girl that girls don't like!_

_I'm the kind that boys fantasize…_

_I'm the kind that your momma and your daddy were afraid you'd turn out to be like~_

_People think it's intimidating when a girl is cool with her sexuality—I'm a 180 to the stereotype_

_Girls like staying home and being innocent!_

Oh fuck it all. Near was getting a fucking erection of all things, just standing in the wings of the stage, watching as Mello slid up and down the pole, as graceful as anything he had ever seen. However, it was the last line that really got the boy—Mello actually licked up and down the pole, placing his hands crudely on his groin, spinning around the pole again. Staying home and being innocent my ass.

_I like all of my shorts to be a little too short-y!_

_Unlike all of my guys—I like them tall with money_

_I love all of my nights to end a little bit nasty~_

_Can't change the way I am! Sexy, naughty, bitchy me!_

With that, Near was gone. The small boy had the worst hard-on he had ever experienced in his entire life. He quickly ran to a nearby bathroom, glancing in a mirror momentarily before sprinting to a stall and locking himself safely inside the claustrophobic space, resting on the toilet and catching his breath before nervously hitching up his skirt and observing his throbbing cock. A small whine made its way out of his throat as he let out an exasperated sigh, wondering why Mello had to turn him on like this…

"Mm…" he softly moaned, eyes flickering closed as he gently smeared the precum dripping out of his slit over his entire erection, slickening it up for his waiting hand—normally, he would have just waited for the bothersome problem to just go down, but he had to get back out there as soon as possible, to see if he was going to get into the top ten.

Slowly, the white-haired boy began to pump his hand, face flushing as pleasure wracked his body. Mm…Mello, rubbing his groin against that pole, vulgarly running his hands up and down his own body, sinful sweat making its way down his back and thighs. A bit-back wanton moan made its way past his lips, the small boy unable to help himself as he let his head loll back slightly, eyelashes fluttering.

"M-Mello…!" he whimpered weakly, body shaky with pleasure. "H-ahahhh…!"

"Near?" a voice replied…one that sounded exactly like Mello's.

* * *

**End Note: **Dun dun dun…I liked this chapter. The Beauty Killer struck, Matsada almost walked in on them taking a shower, Mataline was a skank, per usual, and Mello was a stripper, and Near wanked to dirty images of Mello. Can't get much better than that, nosiree. Anyways…review, maybe? : O *looks at you hopefully* The first to guess (correctly) whom the Beauty Killer is gets a cookie! X3 **OH, and I DON'T own any of the songs I've used in this chapter—which are, in order, 'Wonderful Night' by Fatboy Slim; 'Danse Macabre' by Camille Saint-Saens; and 'Sexy Naughty Bitchy' by Tata Young.**

~FragilePuzzle


	7. Let's Have A Sexy Party!

**A/N: **Hai. I am /really/ enjoying writing this scene, in case you couldn't tell…anyways, I think this'll be a good chapter. Yeah. Definitely a good chapter—especially if you were waiting for the swimsuit competition…^ ^ Which I has been wanting to write o 3 o. Anyways, it took me a long time to update because I was at a con all weekend. IT WAS AWESOME. And now I must sleep…and eat something besides chocolate. *was cosplaying Mello*

* * *

"M-Mello?!" Near asked, eyes snapping open as his hands gripped his erection particularly hard, causing cum to spurt on to his dress. However, he hardly had time to enjoy the pleasure as the sticky white liquid dripped down his thighs, making its way on to the floor, leaving his hands and dress stained with the evidence of what he had been doing.

"Near? What the hell?" his blonde partner asked, running his hands through his silky wig and wondering why his partner had just been moaning out his name.

"I…please leave, Mello," he asked, voice soft and shaky, gray eyes searching the stall and landing on the toilet paper. The small boy quickly pulled some out of the container, wiping his hands on it, trying to quickly clean it up, instead only smearing the sticky residue.

"No, Near, what the hell is wrong?" Mello asked again, banging on the door of the stall, causing Near to flinch. "Is something wrong in there?"

"Nothing is wrong, Mello—"

Suddenly, the unreliable stall door swung open, exposing to Mello exactly _what_ Near had been doing. The blonde only stood there and gaped at the sight for a moment, blue eyes glinting slightly maliciously as he took a step into the stall. Quickly throwing his dress down and pulling the lacy white panties that had been around his ankles up, Near made a move to walk past his partner…but Mello didn't let him. The blonde stuck out an arm, pushing him backwards slightly, causing Near to look up at him with an adorable look on his face—if Mello had to describe it, it would be slightly pouty, his lips pursed and his eyebrow cocked; but there was also a tinge of exasperation and anger in there as well.

"Is there something _Melina_ requires?" he asked, malicious spite in his voice as the cherry red blush that had bloomed on to his face moments earlier came back with a vengeance, staining his normally porcelain skin.

"Tell me what you were doing," Mello demanded, though they both knew that he full well knew exactly what Near was doing. "C'mon, I'm your partner, you're supposed to trust me more than anybody else in this world…yet you won't tell me something. Shame…"

"I believe that Mello knows what I was doing," he said stiffly, trying once again to walk past the sadistic man. However, he was stopped…again.

"Such a sinful boy," laughed Mello, taking a step back and finally allowing Near to walk out of the stall. "So dirty!"

However, despite how many things Mello said about being 'naughty' and 'dirty,' Near did not turn around. He would not give Mello the satisfaction. The small boy made his way over to the sink, beginning to precisely wash his hands, letting the soap and water run over each individual digit and under each fingernail. When he was satisfied with the cleanliness, he pulled exactly two paper towels out of the dispenser, drying his hands before folding them up and dropping them into the open trash can—which, thankfully, didn't have a lid of some sort that needed to be pushed. He hated garbage cans like that.

Meanwhile, while the small boy was trying to keep him mind on garbage cans, Mello was busy thinking about what his partner had been doing…did Near hold feelings for him? If he did, were they simply sexual, or were they something more…?

~*~*~*~

L and Light were sitting backstage, and it was almost time for Miss Utah to perform—she had just been introduced, and apparently, she was going to be reading poetry. How…boring. However, once she started, it was discovered by the audience that she had such a beautiful voice, and such talent. She was bound to get a spot in the top ten. Suddenly, the duo looked over as Mello and Near made their way back into the room, Mello apparently having found Near. It looked as though the two had gotten into an argument of some sort, as Near had his arms stiffly crossed against his chest, and Mello's were loosely placed on his hips. Though, it did seem that Near was much angrier at Mello than the blonde was at him…the leather-clad man just seemed to be smug about something, a smirk gracing the corners of his lips.

"Now that everybody has performed, it's time to announce our top ten!" Aiber said excitedly, turning to the judges. "Now, judges, have you come to your final decisions?"

The judges nodded, so the ecstatic man continued.

"First up, our most popular contestant—Miss New York, Melina Scott!"

Mello made his way out on stage, still in that damn outfit of his—much to Near's displeasure, and the peppy-looking blonde waved to everybody in the audience, occasionally blowing kisses. Next up, it was announced that Near also made it, as well as L and Light (Mikami was in tears at this point, happily waving his handkerchief at the four of them). Afterwards, there were six more contestants announced—Miss Nevada, Mataline Jeevas, Miss Florida, Misa Amane, Miss Tennessee, Bluebell Brown, Miss Texas, Halle Lidner, Miss Michigan, Matsada Touta, and Miss Utah—none of the men could remember her name. Miss Hawaii, whose name was Kiyomi Takada…well, she didn't take the news very well.

"HOW COULD THEY NOT PICK ME?!?!?" she shrieked, slamming her hands down on the table.

"Please, Miss Kiyomi, you were granted the title of runner-up!" the guard said, trying desperately to pull the shrieking woman away from the stage. "If something is to happen to one of the top ten, you'll take their place, don't worry!!!"

However, despite the interruptions, the ceremonies went on until the live cameras were turned off, not to be turned back on until the next day—which was the swimsuit competition. It wasn't until most of the audience was cleared out, and the stage props were being picked up did Bluebell finally speak up.

"Well, ah'll be raight ba'," she said, heavy southern accent dripping off of her every word. "I fo'go' mah implan's!"

"She forgot her Mpreg?" Mello asked confusedly, watching as the girl walked off. "What did she say?"

"Something about implants," said Light, shrugging. "Anyways…tomorrow's the swimsuit competition."

"Yeah."

The four stood there in silence for a moment, the air being thick with tension—until a scream cut thought it like a butter knife. Before they knew it, a heavy set of stage lights was falling from the ceiling of the stage, threatening to crush whatever was in its path, including the four agents. Luckily enough, L was able to shove the much smaller Near out of harm's way, following after him a moment later, yanking on Light's arm in order to get him moving.

It was Miss Utah that wasn't so lucky. The poor girl was the only one that had been crushed under the weight of the steel beams, her thin body twisted and mangled, a sickening crunch having resounded throughout the hollowness of the stage a moment earlier. It took a few seconds before what had happened really sunk in to everybody's brains.

"Oh my god, call the ambulance!!!" somebody yelled, pointing as the brown-haired girl's body twitched slightly, her last struggle of breath a desperate one. However, before anybody could do anything, Near was running over to her and putting two fingers against her wrist, checking for any sign of life whatsoever. He got nothing, not a single pulse of blood was still pumping through her veins.

"It is too late," he said grimly. "She is already dead."

Suddenly, something gently drifted down from the sky…or, the wings above the stage. It was a red rose with a needle and thread intricately weaved throughout the petals and stem. All of the agents instantly knew that this was no accident. It was the Beauty Killer.

"He struck again," L muttered softly, chewing on his thumbnail as his black eyes took in the horrible sight that had tainted the previously-perfect stage.

~*~*~*~

Back upstairs, with the four agents, it was nighttime. Miss Utah hadn't made it to the ambulance—just as Near had guessed, she was quite dead. However, instead of stopping the festivities and this absurd 'scholarship program,' the owner of the pageant wanted to _continue_ it. Aiber claimed that it would 'show the Beauty Killer just who was boss around these parts,' but Light thought it was idiotic. However, the police would have made them continue nonetheless…the Beauty Killer was either getting pretty damn cocky, or just sloppy and arrogant. If it weren't for the rose, Miss Utah's killing would have been seen as an accident, but the rose was dropped down anyways. It meant that it was almost time to catch this sick bastard and expose him for what he was.

"I suppose we should all be getting to sleep," muttered Near, twirling a lock of his short, white hair around his finger, now that they were back safely in the room he shared with Mello. L and Light were not so lucky—they had to stay in their dresses, fake breasts, and wigs until they were able to return to their rooms.

"Very well," L agreed, chewing on his painted thumbnail as he stood up, cracking the silver substance, just as Mikami had warned him not to.

"The swimsuit competition is tomorrow morning, right?" asked the blonde agent, who was currently relaxing on his bed, stretched out and contentedly scratching the back of his leg with his foot, being quite glad that Mikami was not there to tell him that 'he wasn't being very ladylike at all.'

"Yes," answered Light, standing up and walking over to the door. "We'll see the two of you then. Let's go, L."

The other team quickly fled the room, leaving Near and Mello alone in an awkward silence, both of them secretly looking forward to what the next day held.

~*~*~*~

"Light?" L asked softly, the darkness of the room hardly keeping his eyes from seeing what they needed to. The electronic clock on the bedstand in between the two beds in the room was glowing a soft green, lighting the room with a sort of eerie flush—that same clock also read 2:31 AM.

"Mnmnmm…" was the only response the panda-like man received.

"Laaaaaiiiiiitttooooo Imagay…" L pestered him again, pulling his knees closer to his chest, softly poking the sleeping brunette. All he heard was another soft groan of tiredness. "Laaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttttoooooooooooooooooooo…"

"What the hell could you possibly want, L?"

Slowly, the raven-haired man withdrew his hand, readjusting himself from where he rested on the brunette agent's bed. He had been crouched next to the other man's sleeping figure, silently observing him as he slept. Being an insomniac was hard, sometimes.

"I was only wondering if Light was asleep," he shrugged, innocently beginning to chew on his thumbnail once again, bare toes curling around the soft blankets of the bed.

"…why are you on my bed?" he asked, voice still groggy with sleep, yet an exasperated and slightly angry tone managing to work its way to the surface of every word the man said. "What the fuck are you doing? It's 2:34 in the fucking morning!"

"I could not sleep, so I was wondering if Light was asleep," he repeated, blinking a few times as the agent flicked on a nearby table-lamp.

The raven-haired man was quickly pushed off of the bed, and there was a loud thud before there was silence once again. That same silence was broken by the clicking of a lightswitch on a lamp, the rustling of covers as somebody adjusted themselves to go back to sleep, and the soft whisper of denim rubbing against denim as the man on the floor stood up and retreated back to his own bed for the night. Lying in silence was better than having an angry Light push him off of the bed, anyways.

~*~*~*~

"Please welcome our fabulous ladies to one of our more popular events—the swimsuit section of judging!"

With that, there was a collective cheer of joy, the audience basically breaking out into bursts of sporadic wolf-whistling and grunting like the majority-of-men crowd they were. It was Halle that first walked out, a skimpy, barely-there, silver bikini covering her large chest and even larger ass. All of the men hollered at her, and it seemed as though the President himself had just walked on to stage, what with all of the noise she was eliciting.

Near, Mello, L, and Light were all waiting backstage, robes around their swimsuit-clad bodies, each one of them in significant pain. Their bodies had been modeled to look more feminine, all kinds of tape and bindings used for their groins, and slightly-larger-than-usual breasts attached to their chests. This Beauty Killer was one sick, twisted bastard…making them go though all of this, whether he knew it or not—by this point in the competition, it was getting personal. The agents more than _wanted_ to catch him. The sooner they caught him, the sooner they could escape this personal hell, and allow their cocks to regain some sort of circulation.

"Next up, we have…Miss California, Lauren Conners!"

Light was escorted to the very edge of the wings before he was disrobed and shoved out on to the lighted platform, his stilettos unevenly click-clacking against the floor for a moment before they broke into a rhythm as he made his way down the catwalk. The brunette man was wearing an emerald-green swimsuit, a light, sheer, material covering his waist and groin in a kind of side skirt. L didn't exactly know how to describe it, but whatever it was, it was very irresistible. Darker green heels adorned his feet, bringing him to the impossibly tall height of five-feet, eleven-inches.

"Next is a voter favorite, the irresistible Miss New York, Melina Scott!"

There was a cheer before Mello even arrived on the stage, everybody waiting to see the beautiful dancer that turned gay men straight and straight women gay. And he delivered. The blonde-haired man dominated the stage in a light blue swimsuit, a bikini top with tight shorts for the bottom, silver belt buckle that connected the belt that rested around his hips glistening brightly. He got even louder applause than Halle, especially when he flipped his hair over his shoulder, heavily lined eyes not batting a lash as the cameras flashed.

"Aaaannndddd, we have Miss Nevada, straight from Las Vegas, Mataline Jeevas!"

The red-haired girl flounced on to the stage, a white bikini top accenting her ginormous chest, black thong bottom barely covering enough to make it on to television. Near thought it was blasphemy…it was terrible that she was able to get away with that! There were children watching this program! What were they supposed to think---Mello was staring at her. The blonde's bright blue eyes were roaming her perfectly proportioned body, causing Near's fists to clench, but he quickly calmed himself. It didn't matter, it didn't matter, it didn't matter…after all, Mello was probably doing the same thing all of the other people in the audience were doing. It's just what men _did_…Mello was just a normal man, that was all.

"Here's Miss Connecticut, Elle Johnson!"

L walked on to the stage, black one-piece bathing suit not particularly standing out, but his accessories certainly did. Black material was dangling off of bracelets that rested on his wrists, and clicked around his ankles and waist, small golden teardrop gems dangling off of the edge of that fabric. It created the image of some sort of Arabic costume—mysterious and exotic. He softly chimed as he made his way across the stage, gently curtseying in front of the audience.

"And here we go, the adorable powerhouse of the competition, Miss Alaska, Natalie Pohlman!"

Near was next, shyly stumbling on to the stage, yet maintaining his poker face—it was extremely hard, of course, as he was a bit humiliated by the whole thing, but when he saw that Mello had taken his eyes off of Mataline to look at him, he became much more confident. A light, pastel purple swimsuit was what he was wearing, white ruffles covering the area of the nylon material. The ruffles effectively covered any bulges in the tape, or the fact that his chest was considerably smaller than any of the other girls'…but all that mattered was that he looked utterly adorable, glittering eyeshadow playing up the fact that he was wearing a bathing suit probably meant for ten-year-old girls.

When he got a snide sneer from Mataline, all he could do was smile.

* * *

**End Note: **WELLWELL. I think Near was cuter than Mataline, what do you think? : O I mean…unless you're into the skanky type. D: Never fear, Near, you shall win Mello's heart!

~FragilePuzzle


End file.
